


I heard a bird so sing

by blackkat



Series: hawks 'verse [14]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempts at Roleplay, Flirting, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25464394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: “Hey, Professor,” Keeli says dryly, rapping his knuckles against the open study door. “Office hours still going?”
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Keeli (Star Wars)/Quinlan Vos
Series: hawks 'verse [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1825195
Comments: 28
Kudos: 514





	I heard a bird so sing

“Hey, Professor,” Keeli says dryly, rapping his knuckles against the open study door. “Office hours still going?”

There's a long pause. Slowly, Quinlan raises his head, blinking at Keeli like he’s confused, and Keeli smothers a grin, bites down on the flicker of warmth in his chest. Maybe Quinlan still looks a little like a lost frat boy, but whenever Keeli catches him in the middle of writing, he can see the academic that’s usually a little less obvious.

“Were those words?” Quinlan accuses.

Keeli rolls his eyes, and stops trying to hide his grin. “Yeah, they were. How’s the paper coming?”

“Ugh,” Quinlan mutters, which is apparently all that needs to be said. He pushes back from his desk, dragging his dreads up into a tail, and digs into the pocket of his jeans, then groans.

Before he can go to stand up, Keeli catches his shoulders, pulling him back in the chair, and leans in. As gently as he can, he curls his fingers around the tail of hair, then ducks his head and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the mark he left on Quinlan's throat. Fishes a band out of his own pockets, and carefully, slowly ties Quinlan's hair up, then wraps his arms around his shoulders and buries his nose in the curve of his throat, letting out a quiet breath.

“Still playing personal assistant?” Quinlan asks, amused, but he grips Keeli's wrist lightly, tilts his head to rest his cheek against Keeli's temple.

Keeli grunts in confirmation, flattening his hand over Quinlan's chest and stroking over the worn-soft material of his shirt. “You hired me for a job, and I like the benefits. Might as well stick with it.”

“You mean you like being able to boss me around and say it’s for my own good.”

“It _is_ for your own good. And I don’t need to be your assistant to make you do what I want.” Keeli deliberately turns his head, scraping his beard across Quinlan's neck, and smirks at the sound it gets him. Quinlan's hand tightens around his wrist, and Keeli presses a kiss underneath is jaw. Says, low and pointed, “Hey, Professor, any chance I can get some extra credit?”

“Fuck, don’t do that, I'm never going to be able to look at students asking that question seriously if you do.” Quinlan grips his arm, then tugs, and Keeli laughs, straightening just enough to spin his chair around. It’s a dinky office chair, worn and already listing, so he doesn’t try to put himself in Quinlan's lap, even though he came in here with that intention. Instead, he drops to his knees on the floor, hooks his hands under Quinlan's thighs, and drags him down onto his lap.

Quinlan comes with a laugh, catching himself on Keeli's shoulders. “You're just trying to avoid going to see Jango,” he says, though from the way he wraps his legs around Keeli's waist he’s a willing accomplice.

“Yeah,” Keeli admits, and topples Quinlan back onto the rug, curling over him. “I’d _much_ rather screw you in your office than have to sit around while Cody and Rex fight over who’s less of an idiot.”

“Rex. Was there even a contest?” is Quinlan's verdict, but—Keeli's going to take that with a grain of salt, because Quinlan's only really seen Obi-Wan’s reaction to Cody, and that’s not exactly going to impress anyone.

“Rex went on a fifteen-mile hike to impress his new boyfriend, two days in a row. We had days in _boot camp_ that were easier than that,” Keeli says, and kisses Quinlan pointedly. There's a laugh against his mouth, fingers curving around the back of his skull, and Keeli hums, sliding his hands down obvious muscle with plenty of appreciation, then getting his hands on the button of Quinlan's jeans. Slides it out, then eases the zipper down, and the sound Quinlan makes when Keeli cups him through the thick fabric is loud and interested.

“Shit,” Keeli mutters, and drags Quinlan's head back, nipping at the hinge of his jaw, the line of his throat, then kissing the marks. With a sound of interest, Quinlan grinds up against him, long and slow and hard, and Keeli groans—

“Quinlan!” a voice calls, and Keeli freezes, teeth against Quinlan's collarbone. From the front of the house, there's a clatter, the sound of bodies moving. A thud, and then, “Quinlan, are you here?”

“Maybe he’s out?” another voice says, and this one Keeli _knows_. He groans, dropping his head and burying his face in Quinlan's chest as Quinlan's leg slips from around his waist.

“No, his keys are on the hook,” one of the intruders says, with _far_ more cheer than Keeli thinks is appropriate. “He’s probably caught up in his work again.”

“Shit,” Keeli says again, but for an entirely different reason this time. “Think if I'm actively fucking you when he walks in that he’ll take the hint?”

Quinlan thumps his head back against the carpet a few times, then opens his eyes. “It’s Obi-Wan. He’ll probably plant himself in that chair and give us pointers.”

Keeli pauses, and—fuck. He isn't interested. But someone who _knows_ Quinlan, who knows how to drive him out of his mind, sitting in and watching, talking—

Quinlan laughs, a little rough, and thumps his knee against Keeli's thigh. “We’ll have to ask Agen,” he says, grinning. “Maybe that’ll help Kix get his head out of his ass and realize they’ve been dating, too.”

Keeli leans down and kisses Quinlan bruisingly hard, gripping the outline of his cock for one brief moment before he pulls back. “You _are_ smart,” he says, smirking, and gets to his feet.

Quinlan stays where he is, looking like a wet dream where he’s sprawled out across the carpet, jeans hitched down, shirt pulled up. Keeli freezes, staring down at him, and—

That first moment in the jail, he’d _known_ he was in trouble. Quinlan in a leather jacket and tight tank top isn't something any sane person should be expected to endure, and to be hit with that, with Quinlan offering him a place immediately and without hesitation, with wicked humor and sly chaos and far too many lingering glances—Keeli hadn’t stood a chance. Not even a _little_.

Looking at him now feels a little like getting hit with that all over again.

“I could lock the door,” he offers, and it’s closer to desperate than it has any right to be.

“Speaking from long experience as Obi-Wan’s best friend, he’ll pick the lock,” Quinlan says with a groan, and pushes himself up. He offers Keeli a crooked smirk, then waves a hand at him. “We’ll have to finish your roleplay later.”

Keeli scoffs. “You're the one who hired a guy to wander around shirtless moving heavy things, _sweetheart_. If someone wants to roleplay in this relationship, it’s not me.”

“Is the hired help going to seduce me away from my lonely life of research and contemplation?” Quinlan asks, smirking. He steps closer, and Keeli catches him by the hips and pulls him the rest of the way in, kissing him slowly.

“Yeah,” Keeli says, rough. “And then we’re going to fuck on every mostly-flat surface in the house.”

“Sounds good to me.” Quinlan kisses him once more, then pulls away just as steps come down the hall. He turns, and—it’s probably obvious to _everyone_ what they’ve been doing, but Keeli doesn’t give a damn. He follows Quinlan out, and grins when Cody stops dead in the middle of the hallway, eyes widening.

“Hey, Cody,” he says mildly, like turning up in a stranger’s house after almost six years of radio silence is perfectly normal. He brushes past Quinlan on his way to the kitchen, and makes a point to grab his ass as he does.

Quinlan casts him a glance, brows raised, and Keeli holds his gaze pointedly. A heartbeat later, Quinlan snorts, hip-checking him out of the way, and says, “Let me guess, this must be Cody.”

“It is indeed,” Obi-Wan says, and smiles at Keeli. There’s _intent_ to it. A warning, almost. Keeli gives him a polite berth as he passes. “Cody, this is my close friend Quinlan. I’ve been wanting to introduce you for years now.”

From the faint grimace on Quinlan's face, Keeli can guess why it’s taken this long. And, given the way Cody's gaze zeroes in on Quinlan like he’s suddenly public enemy number one, it’s hard to blame him.

“Oh,” Cody says. “Nice to meet you, Quinlan.”

Keeli's never heard a greeting sound more like a threat. Deciding to change tactics, he reverses course, ducking back to grab Quinlan around the waist. “Come on, Professor,” he says, makes it low and pointed and doesn’t _quite_ make aggressive eye contact with Cody the whole time, but—the thought is there. “You were going to show me where you keep your blender.”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm coming,” Quinlan says lazily, and he’s smirking, clearly down for this game. His hand slides into Keeli's back pocket, squeezing lightly, and Keeli reaches up, tugs his dreads in precisely the way that will show off the mark on his neck.

Obi-Wan is watching them with both brows raised. Cody just looks mildly murderous.

Keeli will take it as a win.


End file.
